


Separation Anxiety

by EVVS



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:12:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EVVS/pseuds/EVVS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The job involves risks: the risk of being away for too long, the risk of not coming home, and sometimes, it's just the risk of being apart for too long that can cause cracks in the system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Separation Anxiety

He’d woken up maybe fifteen minutes ago and just lazily tried to get his bearings. For a few minutes, he had even attempted a slow stretch for the remote that was just inches out of his grasp, so that meant surrender and a heavy sigh as he settled back down on the couch in the tower. But finally, he was sitting up and hoping he could find the drive to pretend to get moving. Eat. Train. Shower. Maybe harass Tony. The motions. Get through the day, onto the next.

Sleeping on the couch wasn’t his best plan. He pinched at his forehead before wiping his hand down the entirety of his face, hoping he didn’t look like absolute shit. His back hurt, his eyelids still felt heavy, and there was this constant little ache in his chest.

“How long has she been gone now?”

Steve’s voice didn’t spook him, just made him crane his head in a way that cracked his neck; maybe he should’ve thanked the old man. “Ahh-” Clint checked his mental calendar. “-three weeks and four days.” He’d gotten very good at keeping track, but it almost made the days feel longer.

Circling around the couch with two mugs of steaming hot coffee, much to Clint’s sleepy delight, Rogers moved to sit next to his teammate. “Heard anything from her?”

“Not since she said goodbye.” He took the second mug, the one with his name written on it three times so no one would take it because it was the biggest mug in the cabinet, and he consistently needed that much caffeine to keep him up for the day. The distraction of the drink was helpful, the fact that Cap brought this shit up was not.

The silence between them hung in the air like bullets frozen in time- there was a chance for someone to die.

But neither would talk about her in that heartbeat. The coffee was hot, the sun was beating in through the window. If Clint’s sunglasses hadn’t fallen off in the middle of the night, he might’ve just kept on sleeping. None of the other Avengers liked waking him when he fell into this restless rut.

Like clockwork, about a week and a half into any one of Natasha Romanoff’s missions, Clint would start lingering in Avengers Tower late into the night, trying to find excuses to spend time with the others. He would wind up training harder and longer than even Hulk or Thor. And a little over two weeks in, this crashing on the couch thing would start. And the next stage was already hitting him: the lethargy. If she called, the cycle wouldn’t necessarily reset, but his nervous energy would simmer down a bit, and he would settle down for a couple days. Even before asking, Steve knew Nat hadn’t called.

She was trained for this. No one was worried for her safety by any means. If any of the boys ever even suggested that she couldn’t handle herself, one look would set them on a course to somewhere far away from her, and that was all that mattered. They knew better.

It wasn’t the idea of her dying that bothered Clint. It was separation anxiety.

He could manage on his own, no doubt. Being in a relationship didn’t leave him in this constant state of fear for her life whenever she departed on these deep undercover operations. But it worked basically like this:

There are three-prong plugs, like those that go into an outlet, and that third prong is what keeps the system safe and grounded in case of a frayed wire or electrical power surge. Natasha acted as that third prong. He could function on his own, like if that third prong was ripped away, the plug could still work, but the danger is that it leaves the system slightly unstable. And the separation anxiety left Clint in that strange, unstable state of mind. Restless, anxious, and with energy that he didn’t know how to handle properly.

Which was why he often ended up here, on the couch, seemingly half-dead and silently stressed. The rest of the team knew to be gentle so as not to stick a fork in the outlet.

Yet Steve decided to play with electricity.

“You do know she’s not going to come back some day, don’t you?”

He just scoffed before taking another sip of his coffee, stabilizing the mug with both hands. “She’s not gonna get hurt out there, you and I both know that, Cap. She’s too good for that, she’s Nat.”

His lips pursed for a moment. Slowly, Steve managed to roll out, “We both know that’s not what I meant.” His eyes were dead set on the coffee in his own mug.

No, no one was worried about Natasha dying. They worried about her getting sucked in, getting on a mission that wouldn’t end. Total immersion. One puzzle piece leading to another and then another until it was one spiraling labyrinth of her uncovering more and more information and not wanting to lose the trail. She wanted to help so badly that deep cover could mean years and years if she found a good enough strand of data from within. And maybe she just wouldn’t walk away.

Convinced she wouldn’t do that, Clint scoffed again, but he didn’t look up. Denial was his best friend whenever his partner would vanish. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Hawkeye-”

“This is good coffee.” He took another sip, watching the sun keep tracking its arc through the sky. “Is this Tony’s good Columbian stuff?”

Steve tried hard not to press too quickly. He waited until he knew Clint wasn’t trying to play that game and then spoke again, talking quickly to try and get them all in before man with the wicked fast reflexes could get a word in edge wise. “I know you talk to her about a house somewhere and about a wedding and maybe you guys talk about kids when we’re not around, but you have to pay attention to what’s in front of you. She might get in too deep. She might not want to pull out of a mission. She might decide to stay in deep cover forever.”

His jawline tightened.

Momentum still intact, Steve continued, “And I know we don’t talk about it because it’s probably not a big deal, but what if she does die in the field? What if we don’t even find out?”

The stress was boiling under his skin now, causing a nervous twitch in his leg to activate.

“You need to look at things from a serious perspective, Clint. I know you love her, and as much as she hates to say it and show it, I know she loves you.” His breath almost hitched, but he pressed on to say, “If she’s gone, you can’t live like this forever.”

One hand ran through his hair, and now the mug in his other hand was shaking; whether it was from his twitching leg or his quaking hands, he wasn’t sure. He had his breathing under control from plenty of practice and coordinated his cool down accordingly.

Inhale, stop the leg, exhale.

Inhale, stop the hand, exhale.

Inhale, focus, exhale.

“She’ll be back soon.”


End file.
